The Neti bandwagon or "drinking the salt water kool aide"

One learns a lot on Facebook.  Mostly things they don't need to know.  A blog I read from time to time has a regular feature that is "TMI Thursdays"...  it's like that everyday on Facebook. The status update feature lets you tell your friends, at any given point in time, what you are doing, thinking, feeling... whatever you wanna say.  Do I really need to know that my friend has three kids that are all sick and that she is cleaning the carpet? or that another went to the doctor (45 minutes later) went to the grocery store/pharmacy (2 hours later) got home with the medicine (15 minutes later) is taking the medicine...  I read it, yes, but I don't  really  need  to  know... 

...not only this, but then I (and any other friend) can comment...

"Good luck with that..." is a pretty standard comment from me.

 ...and so, with an allergy problem, I status myself as having a sinus headache and the responses started with

 "get a Netipot..."

For those of you who don't know what a Netipot is, well, it's a thing that looks kind of like a watering can except that you stick the spout up your nose.  Into that nostril you dump a quart of luke warm salt water with the hope that you won't swallow half of it and that, instead (get this), it will come spewing out the other nostril.

This first Facebook response was not the first time someone suggested that I procure this thing which I have come to refer to as Mumbai Water Torture.  No, an old boss mentioned it when I called in sick (I should have said "that's in the 5-year plan".  I had no interest at the time.

What happened on Facebook was astounding...  other friends began to comment on the suggestion; pressing me to take the plunge.  I received actual messages (not just comments on my profile page) from concerned friends who shared their testimonies and experiences.  

So, I posted a new note:  "I'm actually thinking of getting one of those Neti things."

A whole new flood of comments and messages came.  

"You won't regret it."

"Good for you."

"It changed my life."

"I use mine 3 times a day."

I felt like Nicole Kidman fleeing Daniel Craig in that "Body Snatchers" movie remake...  a Lurch of Zombies (I know it's a School of Fish, a Murder of Crows and a Pod of Whales, but I don't know the correct term for a group of zombies-perhaps a Sepulcher of Zombies ) following me to WalMart carrying their undersized plastic teapots - the Morton salt girl leading the march, umbrella in hand.

"Join us.  Drain your nose."

...and I went to WalMart...

...and there, beside the "magic genie lanterns of sinus cleansing" was a squirt bottle made by the same company.  It was cheaper so I grabbed it.  Now, I cannot explain why I thought a geyser of salt water gushing through my nasal passages would be better than a gentle stream winding its way around my deviated septum.  I reasoned that I already had watering cans for house plants and the garden, but no squirty bottle designed to force water from the bottom.  I thought, "When I wimp out of actually using this maybe I can 'repurpose' it to skim the fat off chicken broth..."

...and I headed home with yet another thing I'd bought with no intention of actually using...

...and still the zombies followed.  My always-on MAC revealed even more Facebook friends who had commented.  These were people I thought I knew, people I loved, people I trusted.

But one response, one word changed everything for me.  Like the rising sun that turns the vampires to dust when the virgin can bar the doors no longer, a comment came from Ree,

"ew"

That was all she had to say for me to know that I was safe...  no words of warning, no danger signs, no link to an internet site to explain how this treatment would force salt water into the brain through my nose (the same passage through which the Egyptians took the Pharaohs'), just,

"ew"

...no capitalization, only one "w"...

"ew"

...and somehow I knew that if she felt the same way about it that it was OK...

"ew"

So, I tried it.  The Earth didn't move.  The clouds didn't part.  There was no choir of angels singing.

I DON'T EVEN FEEL BETTER...

...but the next thing that happened scared the snot out of me...

I don't know why I didn't close the bathroom door.

Cricket came up behind me and asked,

"What are you doing?  What is...  ...oh, you bought one of those."

...and, holding up the bottle, salt water dripping from my nose, I actually replied,

"Yeah, you should try it."

-silly